


Worthy of a mate

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Incubus and Werewolf [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, BAMF Derek, BAMF Derek Hale, Barebacking, Come Eating, Complete, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Dirty Talk, Doctors & Physicians, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Incubus Stiles Stilinski, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Mates, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Kidnapping, Sassy Stiles, Series, Shameless Smut, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Snarky Stiles, Tails, Werewolf Derek, Werewolf Mates, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 18:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2783075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that he has Stiles back again, Derek has a promise to fulfil. But first, Stiles has to prove that he's 110% better, and there's also Stiles' last-surviving kidnapper to interrogate.</p><p>(Plot in the first chapter, PWP in second)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Sheriff sighs softly. The police force in Beacon Hills does its best, but there's regular crimes and criminals, and there's ... well, the supernatural kind. Heck, he does his best as Sheriff, and despite everything that's been happening under his nose for _years_ , John thinks he's done an all right job so far. He has the sole survivor of Stiles' kidnappers in the interrogation room; it's a tiny thing and the one-sided mirror is something that the local hardware store had to order in specially when they rebuilt the station, and so far, it's served him well. Today, however, both his own tactics and the claustrophobic nature of the interrogation room seem to be having little effect on the kidnapper - John doesn't even know the man's name (they have to wait almost three days to get results on fingerprints outside of Beacon County; he's been told he'll have them in one day since it was his son, but that's of little use to him right now), and he's getting both impatient and desperate.

The impatience comes from having a son kidnapped by this smug man right there in front of him and being unable to do a darn thing about it, and the desperation comes because while he's not talking, John can tell that this man just don't have the smarts to pull off an operation like the one he had set up in that warehouse. That means he was working for someone, and John's desperate to know who would want to hurt his son and why. _Was it because of him? Was it because of the pack? Was it because Stiles made the chessboard? A combination, perhaps?_ He's itching to find out, and that's one of the _many_ reasons he's called in an outsider after hours to get the man to talk.

John looks to Derek, whose eyes have been gold ever since he stepped inside the other side of the one-sided mirror and saw just who was sitting in the interrogation room. Derek doesn't know the man, he just knows that he's the one that helped kidnap and torture his mate, and his wolf has been howling, snarling and angry, ever since he walked in.

"See what you can get from him. I'm asking for your help because I know I can trust you, Derek," the Sheriff adds firmly, almost putting his hand on Derek's forearm before he reconsiders the action at Derek's low growl. "You can _not_ go in there and beat him to a pulp; there are rules and regulations about this kind of thing, and I'm breaking a dozen state laws just letting you in here. But I need answers, and you can get them for me. _Without_ breaking his fingers."

Derek grins, and the Sheriff would be hard pressed to say it didn't look a little wolfish, then he gives a firm nod and cracks his neck.

" **He** doesn't know that," Derek murmurs, stepping out of the room and making his way into the interrogation room with his eyes still bright gold.

John sighs and watches, hoping he's done the right thing.

...

Stiles sits on the doctor's examination bed, swinging his legs off the side impatiently, his tail swinging along with his feet. Liam's stepfather had found out about werewolves accidentally, walking in on a training session only to see Liam, Scott, and Kira all powered up. (The music they'd been blaring to cover their own noise had blocked outside noises as well.) Dr. Geyer hadn't believed their lies about Halloween or plays, and had been surprisingly welcoming about the whole thing. Apparently he'd had his suspicions after Liam healed from a broken ankle _overnight_. (Liam's attempts at re-bandaging his supposed broken ankle were so poor that even his mother had complained about the hospital staff's ability to do a simple bandage, and the fact that he was walking so soon after breaking his ankle had roused his stepfather's suspicions further.)

"Stiles, Dr. Geyer will be right with you," Melissa says, smiling at him.

"Thanks, Melissa. Hey, do you know what the results are?" he asks curiously.

"Just wait for the doctor, Stiles," she replies, rolling her eyes and leaving.

A few minutes later, Stiles is _bored_ and starts to play _Angry Birds_ on his phone. He's just in the middle of an intense game when the door opens and he flails about, dropping his phone in the process. Dr. Geyer frowns slightly at him from the doorway, closing the door behind him.

"I can come back, if you'd like?" he offers when Stiles muttered under his breath and uses his tail to retrieve his phone.

"No, no! Now's good. So, am I in the all clear? Can I go get sexed up?" Stiles asks brightly.

Dr. Geyer coughs slightly and looks at the paperwork he's brought in. "Everything seems to be fully healed; there's no fractures or lasting physical damage from what was done to you. I am concerned about emotional trauma though; have you considered my idea about seeing a therapist? It could help with ... other things as well," he adds.

"Nah, Doc. I'm okay on that front; Ms. Morrell still keeps in touch and talks to me about things. I mean, she mostly keeps me updated on Deucalion, but she's good at the listening thing too."

"Deucalion's the ... blind Alpha?" Dr. Geyer guesses; it's hard to remember who's who.

(Now that he knows the truth about the supernatural world, he has a suspicion that Carl the paramedic isn't exactly human.)

"Yeah, well, _was_ blind. But hey, not bad for remembering," Stiles says, grinning. "Now, if I can just get you to sign this to declare that I'm really 110% better, I can go work off these extra pheromones," he adds, holding out a piece of paper with hand-written writing on it.

Dr. Geyer's a little surprised, but takes the offered piece of paper anyway. "Let me read through this first before I sign it; I don't want to sign some sort of document to say you can't attend Physical Education or lacrosse training."

"Damn, I didn't even think of that. Ah, it's not like Coach'd accept it, anyway. Not allowed to get out of P.E. or training unless we break something, and it has to be something major. He once made Greenberg do cross country with a pulled hamstring. He made me do suicides until I threw up and fainted. I mean, I kind of just did the normal amount of suicides and then did that anyway, but still..."

Dr. Geyer gives a slight nod, still reading over Stiles' simple document that basically states he is given the all clear to have sex. He really has no inclination to ask just what kind of sex Stiles and Derek are having that he needs a doctor's signature to be cleared for. But he supposes that an incubi probably has more sexual needs than the average teen. _Speaking of_...

"The volunteers at _Planned Parenthood_ have asked that you don't go in there again, and buy your condoms at a store instead," he says, signing the form and returning it to Stiles.

According to the volunteers, Stiles had been walking in, emptying the bowl of free condoms directly into his bag, and walking back out with a cheerful whistle.

"Ah, damn. What about like... ten a week?"

"They're there to provide education and a service, not to personally supply you with enough condoms to satisfy an incubus, Stiles," Dr. Geyer replies firmly.

"Well, _that's_ speciesist... ugh, _fine_. I'll buy a few boxes on the way home for the weekend," Stiles mutters. "But I'm still going to stop in at least once a week; I like getting the picketers all revved up with sexual urges and making them leave in a fluster. Makes me feel like I'm doing some good in the world," he adds, chuckling.

"You're not worried they'll do something inappropriate or untoward to others?"

"Nope. Those idiots are already guilty enough just _getting_ sexual urges, especially in front of a _Planned Parenthood_ clinic. They practically fall over each other to get away that much faster. 'Sides, I make sure no one fucks someone unwillingly. That's seriously not a good use of pheromones. Oh, actually, before I go: do you have any recommendations on books that are specific about pheromones? I want to know if I can like, suck someone's pheromones dry, and what it'll do to their body."

"You're sure you won't see that therapist, Stiles?" Dr. Geyer asks with a sigh.

It sounds just like the Sheriff's ' _oh god, no more/why me?'_ sigh; _maybe it's a parental thing?_ Stiles muses.

"I've already got Ms. Morrell, as well as the compulsory visits after being kidnapped through the police station, on top of the monthly checkups after Eichen House. I'm all therapy'd out, I swear. The moral ambiguity's nothing new or a result of anything I've gone through in the past three to four years, I promise," Stiles adds with a grin, holding up his fingers in a Scout salute.

Dr. Geyer sighs, because honestly, that's something he actually believes 110%. He still takes the note back from Stiles to write the name of a book on the slip of paper that he remembers from his medical school days.

"Huh, that's the same one Deaton suggested. Good to know the Doc and the vet read the same stuff," Stiles says, grinning. "Anything else I gotta do, Doc?"

"No, that's all you were required for, Stiles. You may be better, but do try to take it easy."

"Sure thing, Doc," Stiles replies, and gives him a wink before he saunters out of the office.

Now _that_ , Dr. Geyer doesn't believe for a second.

...


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles is a romantic at heart, so he sets up all of the condom boxes he bought at the chemist (twenty, just to see the clerk at the counter go wide-eyed and red; besides, the apocalypse could start next week, and he wants to be prepared) in a line from Derek's front door to the bed, each one coated with a thick layer of pheromones. He's even put up the notes from Dr. Geyer, Deaton, _and_ Scott to say he's better now, using fridge magnets to hold them to the loft door. While he might consider himself a romantic, there is no way Stiles is patient, and he's barely waited half an hour before he's got his phone out and is playing another game of _Angry Birds_ , waiting for Derek to get back.

An hour passes and his arms have gone tingly from holding the phone in such an awkward position, so Stiles decides to get naked and prepare himself for Derek. He strips out of his clothes, gets the fancy lube he bought and slicks up his fingers and the tip of his tail, intent on using both just to get himself open and wet in preparation for his boyfriend. They have the loft to themselves for the whole long weekend, and Stiles plans on using _at least_ four of those condom boxes. He's planning on being so sore that on Tuesday morning he won't be able to sit down without one of those blow-up round doughnut pillow things to relieve his aching ass. (He bought one at the same chemist, just in case. The poor traumatised clerk had gone pale.) Stiles licks his lips at the thought of Derek fucking him all fucking weekend, three full days of pure _sex_ , and lets his hand drift downwards, slowly tugging at his half-hard cock before moving further down to circle his rim.

He's already sweating and panting by the time the loft door opens, and Stiles takes a second to concentrate and check that it's Derek coming inside and that he's alone. He's right on both counts, so Stiles lets out a whimper, Derek's name falling from his lips, and arches his back as his tail and fingers drive into his ass deeper. Stiles lets a wave of pheromones out, directing them out to Derek, to tease and play with his senses, and it doesn't take long for Derek to arrive in the doorway, eyes gold and fangs out, his senses already bombarded with pheromones from the line of condom boxes he now has gathered in his arms.

"Welcome home, Der-bear," Stiles breathes out, grinning at him the best he can.

Derek groans, soft and low, and moves over to the bed, dropping the gathered condom boxes onto the bedside table. They both ignore the extra boxes that fall off the flat surface and onto the floor, eyes locked on one another instead. Derek looks like he's been running a marathon, his eyes are wide and blown, chest heaving. He's covered in a light sheen of sweat, like it's physically painful for him to hold back from fucking Stiles into the closest surface.

" _Welcome home?_ You do realise what I've been doing all day, don't you?" Derek asks, slipping to his knees to suck on Stiles' fingertips.

"No, what?" he asks through a groan.

Derek doesn't answer straight away. Instead, he swirls his tongue around Stiles' fingers and tugs them out of his mouth with a small, wet _pop_.

"Interrogating the asshole that kidnapped you. Apparently, I worked him over so well that your father's considering offering me an official position on the force. Helps that the idiot spoke only Russian and he didn't know that I knew it," Derek says with a soft chuckle.

"Hmm, proud of you. Serious talk later, 'cause I'm like three minutes away from orgasming, and I've waited for you for over two hours now. I need you right fucking now, Der-bear," Stiles groans, using his tail to bring Derek close.

Derek smirks a little, then holds up the three signed notes from Dr. Geyer, Deaton, and Scott, and raises an eyebrow at Stiles. "You _really_ went to all three of them to check that you were okay to have sex?"

"Yeah. You said 110%, so I wanted to be ready. Even got Scott to sniff me and make sure there were no bruises on my skin in some place I can't see or something. I wanted to be blemish free so you have the whole weekend to mark me up as yours. Your mate," Stiles breathes, hands slipping into Derek's hair to hold him close and kiss him firmly.

Derek groans a little against his mouth, but pulls away with a nod, the three notes crushed in his grip. "Y-yeah. Sounds good. Now, I'm not sure I trust these people with you," he murmurs, climbing up onto the bed and on top of Stiles, their hips so fucking close but not touching and Stiles lifts his hips desperately, but Derek pulls away. "Uh-uh-uh. I need to do a thorough check first. Lie very still," he murmurs against Stiles' neck, then moves up so his nose is resting against Stiles' forehead.

"What are you doing?" Stiles whimpers.

"Doing my own check. Stay still or I'll have to start over," Derek adds, breathing in the sweet scent gathered on Stiles' temples.

Stiles goes still almost immediately, and Derek slowly drags his nose down his face and along his cheek, pressing in at certain points and mixing their scents together. Stiles lets out another groan, but to his credit, he doesn't move. Derek grins against his skin, breathing in the scent of lust and frustration that Stiles is exuding, and continues down his body. He sniffs in deeply on reaching Stiles' left wrist, making sure that he really is all right, as much as he enjoys teasing his lover. Derek moves across his stomach, his stubble leaving a red mark against his soft skin, and Stiles bites back a groan. Derek takes his right wrist in his hand, pressing his nose against it and inhaling. He feels Stiles' tail stroke along his spine and shivers at the contact.

"Don't make me start over again, Stiles," he warns, though his voice is rough and low.

"You... _fuck_ , _please_ , Der. Need you now," Stiles begs, lifting his hips again.

"I know, babe. Just a few more minutes, then I'll make good on my promise," Derek murmurs, nuzzling his cheek against Stiles' cock.

Stiles groans at the contact and goes to lift his hips again, desperate for more friction, but Derek slips down his body towards his ankles. He pauses at Stiles' knees, pressing a kiss to the taut skin there, Stiles' knees already bent and his ass lifted off the bed eagerly in anticipation. The sight almost makes Derek cave, but he forces himself down further until he can scent Stiles' ankles and make sure he'll be strong enough for what he has planned. Stiles lets out a very pleading and undignified whimper when Derek presses a kiss to the bony side of each of his ankles, his hips lifting again.

"C'mon, you're torturing me here," Stiles groans.

Derek moves up Stiles' body, looks down at him with concern etched in his features. "You mean that?"

"No, not like that! It's a saying, bad timing for it, obviously, but _killing me_ doesn't sound any better, really! I just seriously need your dick, but I promise it's not torture. Nothing like what those bastards did to me, and I need you, Derek. _Please_ ," Stiles pleads, holding Derek's face in his hands and pulling him close to kiss him eagerly.

"You sure?" Derek murmurs against his lips.

"110% positive," Stiles promises.

Derek presses a firm kiss to Stiles' lips, then moves off the bed to undress, Stiles watching him eagerly with each reveal. Derek's naked in a few seconds, grabs one of the few condom boxes that had stayed on the bedside table, and returns to the bed, straddling Stiles' waist as he opens the box.

"Just how many of these boxes do you plan on using?"

"With you, this weekend? _At least_ four. Think you can handle it?" Stiles asks, grinning at him.

"You realise there's 24 condoms per box?" Derek asks, looking at the strip of condoms.

"Yep!"

"24 condoms, four boxes, that's 96 condoms over three days; 32 condoms a day. I think I have a bit more stamina than that, Stiles. And we both need to sleep at some point," Derek mutters.

" _Fine_ ; three boxes then," Stiles replies with a long-suffering sigh.

Derek snorts and shakes his head. Stiles just grins and watches as Derek tears open the foil packet and slides the condom down onto his half-hard cock. Stiles' tail slips out of his ass quickly, and he bites at his bottom lip, his tail curling around the lube to offer to Derek.

"Remind me to ride your dick later," Stiles murmurs, licking his lips.

"We can do that now instead, if you'd like?" Derek offers, taking the lube and slicking his cock up well, his hand curled around his cock as Stiles watches eagerly.

" _No fucking way_. I've been promised a _good, hard fuck_ ," Stiles breathes out, thrusting his hips up against Derek with each word.

Derek just raises an eyebrow and snorts in amusement. Stiles glares at him, but it makes little difference.

"What's so funny?" Stiles demands.

"Who said it was going to be **a** fuck?" Derek asks, grabbing Stiles hips and thrusting his cock into his ass firmly, drawing a long heated moan out of Stiles easily.

"Y'mean there's more?" Stiles asks, his voice thick and slurred as Derek's pheromones surround them and mix with his own, and fuck, Derek's heartbeat, it sounds so _perfect_.

"There's more," Derek promises, kissing him firmly before he holds Stiles around the waist and starts to fuck him with sharp and hard thrusts. "I'm going get your first orgasm out of you fast, 'cause we both know you don't take long after all of this preparation. Then we'll really get our weekend started."

"Mmm, what're you going to do to me?" Stiles asks, close to begging as Derek gets a hand around his cock and squeezes firmly.

"I'm going to go so slow you'll be a wreck by the time I let you orgasm again. You're going to beg me, and I'm going to make sure you know just who's mate you are," he promises. "Then, when you've come down from that and I've taken care of my mate, you're going to present your perfect little ass to me and I'm going to claim you while I fuck you bare. I'm going to fill you up, and everyone's going to know that you're mine, that you're mine to love and fuck, and that you chose me. Claiming and fucking you like that will probably make you have an orgasm strong enough to knock you out with the sheer force of it," Derek muses.

Stiles whimpers in anticipation, his hips lifting to get more of Derek's firm grip around his cock.

"Once you're awake again, I'll let you rest while I eat you out, slow and sweet until you're hard and begging for more. I'll make sure to get every drop out of your pert little ass, and won't stop until both my wolf and I are satisfied. Then I'll turn you over - god, you'll be so easy to move when you're a pliant mess from just my cock - and then I'll suck your cock so fucking good, you'll be coming down my throat within minutes. I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, Stiles," Derek promises, giving his hand a slight twist around the head of Stiles' cock.

Stiles screams out his orgasm, his bare body covered in a mess of white lines and drops. Derek licks his lips and moves down to lick his chest and stomach, lathing him with his wide tongue until he's clean. Stiles can't think about anything other than what Derek's just said, and is hard within mere seconds of orgasming. He lifts his hips so his hard cock presses against Derek, but it's ignored for the moment as Derek continues to lick him clean.

"Tomorrow, your tail can fuck me while I suck you off," Derek murmurs against his skin, and Stiles groans. "And then you can fuck me all day long, if you like. You can drink from me and mark me as yours properly. All yours, for everyone to see and know."

"It'll heal though," Stiles murmurs sadly, stroking the curve of Derek's neck as he looks up at him.

"I can keep it from healing for the rest of the weekend, that should be enough for it to work. Besides, a claiming mark's more than skin-deep. If the intent is there, the scent will never leave unless the claim is broken."

"And you want that from me?"

"Always," Derek promises, kissing him on the stomach gently, his stubble rubbing against his soft skin again.

Stiles pulls Derek up to him and kisses him filthily. "You're so good to your mate."

"So are you," Derek murmurs against his lips, working a hand between them to stroke and cup Stiles' hard cock.

"Fuck me now, please," Stiles begs, rocking his hips up against him.

"Patience, Stiles. I'm going to do just as I promised," Derek says, kissing him before his thrusts slow to a far more gentle pace.

Stiles bites his lip as Derek moves his legs up to hook over his shoulders, his ass almost in the air, balanced by his tail on the mattress, and he's close to losing Derek's cock completely. _That won't do at all_ , Stiles decides, squeezing his ass around Derek's cock firmly to keep him inside of him. Derek strokes his thighs gently, easing Stiles' tight grip around him, and slowly starts to move up into his ass. The angle means that he's close to Stiles' prostate, but even though he could hit that spot repeatedly with his cock, Derek's not giving Stiles that release. He's keeping his promise and is going slow, making sure to draw out both of their orgasms with this one, and while Stiles loves it, he also hates it because he _needs more_. Derek starts to stroke his thighs, hands sweeping back towards his ass, cupping the globes of flesh before squeezing tight, spreading him as he thrusts back into him with lazy strokes.

"Derek, please. Please, need more. More, please, please _please_ please," Stiles groans, voice low and thick.

"I know, babe. Not yet, you're still coherent," Derek murmurs, though Stiles can tell that it's difficult for him to talk.

"Not for much longer," Stiles mutters under his breath, trying to lift his hips and screw them down against Derek.

The words - or actions, he's not quite sure - earn him a slap on the ass, Derek soothing the reddening skin with his broad palm almost immediately. The slap shocks Stiles enough that he goes silent, his whole body tingling. He can even feel the sensation vibrating down his tail, and it makes him tremble.

"Again," he breathes.

Derek raises an eyebrow, but smirks when he sees Stiles' parted lips and blown eyes. "Like that do you, babe?" he asks, slapping his other ass cheek without warning.

Stiles' orgasm is answer enough, and he squeezes his ass around Derek's cock, trying to keep him inside of him. Derek hums in appreciation when Stiles squeezes firmly, then bends his body so he has the tip of Stiles' throbbing cock in his mouth. He sucks hard, tongue licking at his head and circling the sensitive skin, swallowing every drop that Stiles is letting lose. His cock's in a state of shock, he's sure of it, unsure whether to go flaccid now after another orgasm, or get hard again with the wet heat of Derek's mouth wrapped around it. Stiles groans something at Derek, not making any sense, but Derek mumbles something around his cock in response anyway, tongue pressing against the underside of his cock, and well, his cock's not going to go limp _now_.

Derek holds Stiles' hips firmly, bobbing his head as Stiles tries to find purchase on the sheets, his lover's arms, the pillow or headboard behind him, something to help his world stop spinning. His fingers can't seem to take hold of anything, and he's screaming through his third orgasm, falling and spinning as Derek sucks and licks and fucks his cock with his mouth.

"Best. Mate. Fuck," Stiles mumbles, breath heavy and laboured in his chest.

He has little idea of what he's saying, doesn't think he's ever had three orgasms in such quick succession before, even as an incubus, and he licks his lips, trying to get the thick fog in his head to clear with little success. His tail's gone limp under him, and Derek's caressing the base of his spine gently, soothing motions going down to his tail, making it curl up under Stiles' body. Stiles is barely aware as Derek pulls away and tugs the condom off, tying it off and throwing it across to the bin across the room.

"I know, babe. I'll fuck you once I've taken care of you. You're a little out of it right now," Derek says, lowering Stiles' legs slowly and continuing to caress him in long sweeping strokes. "Such a good mate, perfect for me. Your ass, your cock, your mouth, even your fucking tail. Fuck, your mind and smarts, you're so absolutely perfect. Love you so much, Stiles," Derek murmurs, moving to press hot kisses against his face.

Stiles whimpers at the extra sensation when his body feels like it's on fire and he's so fucking sensitive, but he can't really say any of that aloud when his mind feels like it's wrapped in a tonne of cotton wool. Derek seems to know what he means anyway because he dips his head until he captures Stiles' mouth in a searing kiss, pressing their bodies together firmly, and Stiles can do little more than cling on to his shoulders for dear life. He actually feels a little more clear headed when they pull away, and Stiles can see the fading black lines on Derek's arms.

"Wasn't hurt," Stiles mutters, a little petulantly.

"It's not just for pain," Derek replies, moving to start mouthing at his neck. "Almost ready for the next part," he murmurs against his skin, sucking and nipping to form a hickey.

"Mmm, what's next?" Stiles asks, tilting his head to the side so Derek can have better access to his neck.

"You're going to present your ass to me so I can fuck and claim you."

A pleasant shiver runs across Stiles' body at Derek's words, he says them with such heat in his voice that Stiles can practically feel them burn against his skin.

"Fuck me without a condom, Derek. Please, I want to feel you."

"Even though you bought a billion condom boxes?"

"We've got the rest of the weekend," Stiles replies. "I want you to claim me and fill me. We're both clean, and we both know it. _Please_ , Derek."

Derek stills for a moment, thinking about it seriously. He looks over at the boxes that are littering the floor and bedside table, then to Stiles, who's looking up at him with his big eyes.

"All right, Stiles. Just be patient for another minute; I haven't finished taking care of you yet."

Derek accompanies his words by cupping Stiles' face, his thumb stroking against his cheek. His words actually seem to calm Stiles, and he relaxes against the mattress with a sigh. Stiles can feel his tail stirring underneath him, slipping out of its curl to wrap around Stiles' hips. Derek grins as if he'd been waiting for exactly that, then rubs his hard and pre-come leaking cock against Stiles' stomach, trapping his tail and twitching cock between them.

" _Fuuuuck!_ This is... taking care... of me?" Stiles asks between gasps, hips lifting off the bed to grind up against him.

Derek doesn't reply, simply grabs the base of Stiles' tail and cock together in his hand and strokes firmly. The feeling makes Stiles whimper, eyes almost rolling back into his head as his tail wraps around his cock as well, helping Derek get him off. Stiles is so not against that at all. He needs more of this double-gripped fuck, in fact. He wants to say that, or something along those lines, but he can't because he's coming for a fourth time, practically screaming as his tail tightens around his cock to the point of pain, but it feels so fucking good, and Derek's sucking down everything he's letting out, looking up at Stiles like he's his favourite thing ever.

"Fuck. Fuck, that... _Fuck_ ," Stiles babbles incoherently.

Derek looks smug, the bastard, and twirls his tongue as he lets go of Stiles' mouth with a pop. He licks his tail quickly, the tail quivering in response, and Stiles tells himself that as soon as he can make a coherent sentence, he's going to get Derek to suck his tail like it's his cock. His tail wraps around his ankle, and Stiles licks his lips with his grin; he doesn't plan on making a coherent sentence until tomorrow at least.

"Now?" Stiles asks breathlessly.

"Now, babe," Derek confirms, sitting up and helping him turn over.

Stiles kneels, holds his ass up in the air as he rests his head on the crook of his arms on his pillow, and Derek carefully curls Stiles' tail around his hips instead of his leg. Stiles gives his ass a bit of a wriggle, trying to demand without words, and a desperate whine slips out of his mouth as well. Derek chuckles, pressing his palms to Stiles' ass cheeks before spreading them firmly.

"I know, babe. You should hear my wolf. It's howling a symphony for you, for our mate. It's practically drooling at the sight and scent of you, of your ass. You're so open for me, babe, and your hole's desperate, look at it," Derek breathes in wonder, sliding his finger down between Stiles' cheeks before pressing at his hole.

Stiles tries his best to get that finger inside of him, but Derek pulls away abruptly.

"Maybe later, babe. I'm going to fuck you now, remember? Do you still want my cock?" Derek asks, the question breathed in a hot rush of air right against his hole.

The noise Stiles makes isn't human, and he tries to find the words to say _yes, yes, fuck yes, now, please, fuck, please, now_ , but he can't, he can't speak, he's so overcome with need, and he knows that Derek knows that. Derek presses a kiss to each of Stiles' ass cheeks in turn, then buries his head between them to press a hot and wet kiss to Stiles' hole as well. He presses his tongue against him, Stiles letting out a loud moan as he tries to push his ass back further, and Derek's tongue lathes against him eagerly. He presses his tongue into Stiles' rim, but before he can say or do anything in response, Derek pulls away. He ignores Stiles' desperate whimper, and starts palming at his ass, caressing and opening him as Stiles trembles beneath him.

"You taste so good, babe. Going to fill you with my cum, going to mark you and claim you, and everyone's going to know you're mine. Going to buy you the prettiest plug in the world, fuck you and cum in your pretty little ass, and then plug you up so you'll feel nothing but my cum inside of you all day. Everyone's going to smell it, know what I've done to you, and you're going to love it, babe. You'll be begging me to wear the plug again, begging me to fill you, and I'm going to spend hours teasing you before I let you have the plug. You'll be so hard, and it'll all be for me," Derek breathes against his ass.

Stiles has been whimpering ever since Derek started talking, his cock throbbing almost painfully with how hard he is, and he thinks he might just cum completely untouched. He can feel every breath against his hole and cheeks, can feel the light scrape of Derek's stubble against his sensitive skin, and he can feel Derek's hard cock throbbing against his leg.

"Need you. Claim me. Fuck me. Fill me. Derek, _please_ ," Stiles begs, reaching back with one hand to wrap around Derek's hard cock.

His tail's still wrapped around his hips, but he can't make it move, can barely make his own arm move right now, and Derek unwraps his hand gently, pressing a kiss to it before leaning over his body to place his arm on the pillow again. The action makes him press up against Stiles' tail firmly, his cock sliding against his ass, and Stiles almost gives in to his need to orgasm right then and there. Derek presses a kiss beneath his ear before he moves back, holding his hips and lining his cock up. As soon as he feels Derek's cock press against his rim, Stiles goes still, holding his breath and waiting impatiently. He _needs_ Derek, needs everything he's detailed, needs him to fill and fuck him so fucking much. Stiles knows that there'll never be anyone else for him, that Derek's his as much as he's Derek's, and it's that thought that has him crying out as Derek slides his cock into him.

"Okay, babe?" Derek murmurs, stroking his thighs gently.

"Mmmm," Stiles breathes, wiggling his hips and trying to get comfortable.

Derek continues to stroke his thighs until Stiles is ready a few seconds later, and when he gives a nod, Derek holds his hips and starts to move. Stiles is still sensitive from the earlier fuck, his cock is still hard against his stomach, and he lets out a wave of pheromones to help him stop orgasming quite so soon. Derek's slow thrusts start to get faster almost immediately, and he can feel the pinch of his claws against his hips, a low growl filtering out between his fangs as his wolf responds to the released pheromones in the most primal way possible. Stiles is sure he'll be bruised and as sore as fuck tomorrow, but right now it feels fucking fantastic, and he moves his ass back against Derek's thrusts the best he can. Derek's words have slipped away as he holds Stiles and fucks into him, and Stiles can't think, can't do anything but feel. Derek's legs firm up against the back of his thighs, Derek's hips slamming against his ass, Derek's fingers digging into his hips, Derek's cock throbbing and pressing up against his prostate with each and every thrust. Stiles groans, tries to hold off his orgasm again, but he can't, he can't focus on his pheromones, and his tail's tight around his waist, practically encouraging him to let go, and he has to give in, he can't wait any more. His orgasm builds and builds, and he tries to warn Derek, but he can't even do that either, and he's groaning, his eyes rolling back into his head as Derek leans over his body to sink his teeth right into the curve of his neck. Stiles cries out then, a high sound that reverberates in his ears for a moment, and he's vaguely aware of Derek fucking him right through his orgasm, even as he blacks out completely, Stiles' body going limp against the mattress.

When Stiles comes to, it's to find Derek still buried in his ass, even though his cock's soft and flaccid now, and Derek's stroking his hair gently, murmuring soft sweet words to him. Stiles turns his head to smile up at Derek - _his mate_ \- a little dazedly and goofily, his hand clumsily trying to catch his without much success. Derek laughs, a low rumbling sound that Stiles can feel on his back, and takes Stiles' hand in his own, pressing light kisses along his fingertips.

"You were perfect. Now, you rest while I clean us up, okay?" Derek murmurs.

Stiles must manage a nod because Derek pulls out of him slowly, slick leaking and Stiles whines at the loss of his mate's presence. Then he's being manhandled gently by big hands, turned so he's on his back, and Derek smiles at him like he's the best thing since curly fries, and Stiles lets out a soft sigh of content. His fingers are tingly, his heart's pounding in his chest, and he can still feel the aftershocks of his orgasm running through him. Derek presses a kiss to his stomach, almost swollen with the amount of come he'd released into him, and Stiles lets his drift eyes close, intent on dozing and relaxing so Derek can clean them up as he'd said. His eyebrows raise slightly when he feels Derek's mouth at his hole again, his tongue licking and sweeping in to get every drop. His stubble burns against his sensitive ass, but it's a nice feeling, and Stiles just tries to relax and enjoy it.

The thing is, Stiles starts to enjoy it too much. His tail has started caressing against Derek's neck, and it doesn't take long for Stiles' cock to get hard, either. He's kind of lost all sense of time and really has no idea how many times he's orgasmed, but Stiles is pretty sure that he should have at least another two minutes to recover before they do anything. Derek seems to be in agreement, because his fingers tighten around Stiles' hips, adjusting his legs slightly to spread him further, and keeps kissing and licking and sucking at him until two minutes have well and truly passed, and Stiles is desperate for more. His cock is already leaking, his legs are shaking, and he thinks he might actually be begging aloud, but it could just be in his head.

"Almost, babe. Patience," Derek murmurs against his ass, rubbing his cheek against one of the few pale spots left, the skin red and a little raw beneath his stubble.

Vaguely, Stiles thinks that he did the right thing buying that blow-up doughnut to sit on. _Maybe he can just stand for all of Tuesday instead? Can beard burn be used as a medical excuse to get out of school for the day?_

"Now?" Stiles asks breathlessly, trying to grind down against Derek's face without a lot of success.

"Wolf's still hungry, just give me a little more," Derek says, and he shifts, his features changing until he's wolfed out, sideburns in full force.

Stiles almost cums right there and then because Derek _never_ shifts while they're having sex. He claims it's too dangerous, that he might succumb to his wolf's more primal desires and needs and hurt Stiles. He's never pushed Derek about it because even though he'd been curious (he's talking level 9000 curiosity, here), Stiles could see how uncomfortable Derek was with the idea of it, and he'd never want Derek to be uncomfortable during sex (unless they were aiming for a little discomfort, because there was that weekend when he found out how much he liked being tied up). The fact that Derek's shifted now means that he trusts himself enough not to hurt Stiles, and Stiles will not be the one to fuck this up.

Derek, unaware of Stiles' internal monologue, buries his head against Stiles' ass once more, his tongue slightly thicker and just that tiny bit longer. Derek can taste himself on his tongue, mixed with Stiles' scent, and he sighs as he gathers the very last drop out of Stiles' ass and finally pulls away. Stiles is staring down at him with wide eyes, and takes his face in his hands, pulling him up to kiss hungrily and filthily. Stiles doesn't seem to care where Derek's mouth has just spent the last ten minutes, and licks into his mouth eagerly, his hands caressing and stroking his sideburns. Derek can feel Stiles' cock leaking and hot between their bodies, and kisses Stiles' mouth one more time before he moves down his body to his straining cock.

"Please, Der. Please, let me come quick," Stiles begs, voice a little hoarse from all of the sounds he's been making.

Derek just grins at him, his face shifting back a mere second before he swallows down Stiles' hard cock. Stiles lets out a strangled groan, his body twitching beneath him, and Derek closes his eyes, nose pressed against his groin, and breathes in his scent eagerly. Stiles smells just like his mate should, and it's a heady and addicting scent, now that he knows Stiles really is his mate and he can smell the claim pulsing through his body. He draws back slowly, dragging his tongue along the cock's thick vein, and Stiles is whimpering in need by the time he finally lets go with a slurp, pre-come teasing his tongue. Derek doesn't even wait for Stiles to ask or beg, just lowers his head again, sucking at the tip of Stiles' cock, his hand stroking him firmly. This will be the last orgasm for the next few hours, and he wants to make it a good one. His mate deserves nothing less, after all.

"P-p-please. Der. Need - have to... Can't hold..." Stiles stammers, words beyond him and he lets out a deep groan that sounds like it came all the way from his stomach, his balls drawing up and his cock spilling into Derek's mouth.

He sucks nearly all of it down, then pulls away and lets the remaining few spurts hit against his cheeks and lips. Stiles groans again when he sees Derek, painted in his come, and pulls him up to lick him off. It's such a wolf thing to do that it eases Derek's wolf almost immediately, and he feels it curl up contentedly. Derek presses a few kisses to Stiles' mouth before he wraps an arm around his mate and holds him close.

"You were right, Der. Ruined me for anyone else now," Stiles says, moving back to grin at Derek so broadly that Derek's face aches in response. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that just blew every top ten wank bank material out of the water. This'll be my top ten material _forever_. Maybe even top _hundred_. Holy fuck. I... You promise I get to claim you tomorrow? Might need a second contender for the top hundred," Stiles says, grinning at him again.

"Of course. Now shut up and cuddle me," Derek grouses, pulling him close again.

"Cuddlin' my mate," Stiles agrees in a sing-song voice, burying down against Derek's chest and letting sleep take over.

Derek lets out a soft sigh, listening to his mate's heart beat as he closes his eyes to fall asleep to that slow and steady sound. It's one of his most favourite sounds in the world.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!


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